Jeff The Killer: Acceptance
by xXAngelsofChaosxx
Summary: Part One of Two: Jeff the Killer is a notorious serial killer cursed with the shrills of his victims. When plans go awry for Jeff, he finds himself wrapped up in the life of his latest and possibly next victim.
1. Chapter 1

**Jeff The Killer: Acceptance Part 1 of 2**

The overcast cradled the moon in grey sheets.

Regardless of it's newfound coat of thickening mist, the lack-luster of the moon's light didn't hinder his gate.

Striding onward into the embrace of the night, the pinch of his etched smile taunted him. A cold, smooth wisp of air drew straight into his lungs through exposed nostrils as the buzzing grew louder. The only insects that buried into his skull came to him in the form of voices, dozens of voices. While low in volume, the chanting of each and every voice were merely part of him now, so much so he could sometimes tell his own thoughts from their muffled screams and mournful whimpers.

They kept him company.

Even the echoes of screams are sometimes more comforting than the weight of silence in the death of the midnight hours.

Slowing his pace, his slickened hand dragged down his hoodie in a paint brush motion. Layers of crimson caked onto his fingers now making them stick. A grimaced expression moved all the muscles in his face but the crescent-shaped flaps of meat hanging from just beneath his cheekbones.  
The moisture of leaves served as damp towels as the young man's body slowly seeped into the forest floor.

She didn't look at him, she _saw_ him.

The thought of this had him drawing in a hinged breath. There was a complexity to just that phrase that he failed now to wrap his mind around. The buzzing grew into a monotonous drone.

She didn't _look_ at him...

He knew she recognized him from the news, a forum, someplace where an artist rendered sketch of him was plastered. And it was the way her eyes fixated on him that left him in a haze; it were as though she had been expecting him, just how she looked so prepared for his arrival, this was something that he'd never seen before. The way her face remained expressionless as he exited the neighboring house seemed as though she had stared at him for hours on end.

_This is a mistake. Go back. He sneered, It will be like that boy and his shot-gun toting father all over again.  
_"What is she going to do? Give The police a sketch of our new identity?" he answered with equated anger. "It can wait until tomorrow night."  
_**THIS ISN'T A JOKE**. Tomorrow will be too late, cops will be all over the place. You need to go in there, and slit the little bitch's throat, **now**.  
_"We took care of that lil shit and his dad, didn't we? Don't you remember the look on their faces when they saw us again?"

His eyes idled as though he has closed them, part of his imagination was soothing them with the brush of eyelids. Their likeness faintly flooding in front of him served as a reminder that it had been years since Jeff had dreamed, but these fantasies were just as good.  
The way their eyes widened till they were glazed whites reflecting fractions of light, how their abnormal mouths formed horrified gapes that refused to draw air. A chuckle escaped while he remembered all too well how they looked before he made them perfect.

_Mother always said to look your best..._

The curl of his smile was dominant on one side as he stood.


	2. Chapter 2

She truly believed that he was coming for her this time. Like a deer in headlights, she stared out the top floor window processing what she had just seen, recognizing the shape of the shadow that was creeping along the long fence across the street.

He had been walking in broad daylight when she had first seen him, realizing now that he had been casing the house across the street.  
' house.

**She thought nothing of it until the next day. He wore the same clothing as the day before, and the day before that. Slowly, almost in a menacing fashion, striding up and down the street glancing at houses.**

He had worn a grey jacket over his usual clothing, but once he had gotten close enough for her to see him more closely she knew that hood anywhere; burned and browned around the edge, just like all of the pictures.

Sasha felt frozen in place by his blackened glance. She didn't feel as much fear as she anticipated as when she had imagined this moment dozens of sleepless nights before. But her breaths became short-lived grasps of what she found comfort in as reality. Her body retaliating by leaving her lungs feeling more and more flattened with every stroke of air. What had truly startled her was not the fact that there may now be some truth to every forum post she'd ever read, but how those late nights scaring herself into insomnia had conditioned her for when she finally came within shouting distance with one of the Master's...no..._theMaster_ of those fears.

Her body felt as though it had suddenly chilled with a thin film of heat leaving her in a wave as the caption of his eyes centering into her face seared into her mind.

She had just turned off her computer when he had been ensnared in the corner of her eye. His white hoodie treading across the yard like a large animal. Even when she wasn't sure that it was in fact him that she had seen, she instinctively shut off her laptop, enclosing herself in the darkness of her empty home.

His frame faded into the grey and blue shades of midnight as he became a shadow along 's home. Her fingers hesitantly stumbled along her computer desk, searching for her phone, unable to look away.  
The window in the living room left little to the imagination as it was unveiled, but from there she could see the opening of the staircase illuminated by the fractions of moonlight. _He's heading up the stairs…_

Her fingers slid along the finished wood surface to no avail. She leaned stretching her torso back without breaking her focus on the house. Her fingers felt as though they were pulsing each time they touched the surface.

If she had never moved out, she wouldn't be here right now.

If she had never left, she wouldn't be up this late.

She would be sleeping next to mom and Annie on the couch, and her terrier, Duke.

Although she knew Mom wasn't there to tell her she had only been dreaming, she wasn't at home, either.

Just Ken.

And his new wife.

The woman stole a quick breath and shook away the thought slowly. Her fingertips nearly grazed her phone, she sneered distastefully at her gawking.

There was a weightlessness that made her heart pound hard against her chest in a solo cry. Her frail hand barely gripped the table as she collided with the oak floor. She cried out holding her head as she began writhing.

"Damn...Damn it!" She hissed. "God-DAMN IT!"

Her protest was cut short by a sudden stir from the room below her.

Foot steps.

Heavy, quickened, and heading toward the stairs.

The pounding in her chest gave way to a quaking in her body so violent it made her joints feel as though they were vibrating.

_He's here…_

Her mind began to reel. _He finished -he's on a killing spree!_ The aching now replaced with a violent conglomeration of fear and a sensation she hadn't been able to identify before. Not since her Mother's accident had she felt such a need to survive.

From the floor she could see under her bed, just a few feet away, a baseball bat.

She rolled to her side, sitting up her chair. It would give him enough time to ponder what he had heard. Her hands felt clammy compared to the wooden floor, she quickly threw each hand in front of the other, nearly scattering across the floor. A panicked hand nearly thrust under the bed for the weapon, now unsure of when the slamming in her chest started and the pounding of hurried footsteps began.

Both simultaneously came to a halt as the door flew open.

She didn't have enough time to hide.

The dark brought a figure forward, lunging towards her-she shrilled swinging the bat with all of her might, a muffled thud knocked him to the floor with a high pitched cry followed by an uninhibited whimpering.

"WHAT THE HELL SASHA?!" the voice cracked.

Her eyes shot open dropping the bat against her nightstand, she crawled from the space between her bed and drawers crawling to the small figured girl shrieking on the floor.

"_ANNIE! OH MY GOD!_" she bellowed. "Annie! Are you alright? What are you doing here?"

"You IDIOT! I was just at the bar-oh my god! What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?! HUH?!"

The girl lying on the floor curled up holding her side swearing profusely through wildly spilling tears. She coughed between her sobs leaving Sasha more aware of the danger, her thoughts were tangle yarn as her sister drunkenly cursed her.

It had only taken a second before she shook herself out of one mess and diving into the one in front of her. "Annie...Annie, we have to get out of here! There's a killer across the street, we have to get to the car and call the police!"

The younger of the two rolled onto her back growling more profanity under a hinged breath. "What are you talking about? I came home from the bar, and I heard you fall out of your chair and you hit me with a _fucking bat_-now some bullshit about a killer?"

Sasha shook her head violently as her sibling lifted her from the ground and onto the bed. "Annie you don't understand! I just watched him go into Mr. Jacobs house! Please! I want to go!"

"How do you know it's not his son, Sasha?" Annie's voice snapped with a less than enraged tone as she turned to retrieve her sister's chair. Sasha's stomach churned smelling the alcohol on her sisters breath.

Her voice broke into a panicked wail as her hands clutched at her chest in her matter of fact way when she is absolutely certain, but refraining from screaming towards her sister. Reaching down from the bed she gripped the bat once more, "I've had physical therapy with Mr. Jacobs for _two years_ Annie! He doesn't have a son!"

A second had passed when Sasha realized Annie wasn't responding.

She stared out the window with an expression that could rival an empty canvas. Sasha's eyes widened feeling her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. "A...Annie?"

The young woman didn't respond, her lips parting only slightly as though she were forming words in slow motion.

"I...it's him..._it's Jeff the Killer._"


End file.
